


Immortal Emperor in a Mundane Universe

by Destiny_Apocalypse



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_Apocalypse/pseuds/Destiny_Apocalypse
Summary: Solas presents a gift of interest to the Inquisitor. Mostly an excuse for more stoner elf smut.





	Immortal Emperor in a Mundane Universe

Ashanna sets down her quill and blinks at the elf standing behind her desk with an unreadable expression, before glancing down to stare at the small satchel he has handed her. The texture of the leather has the unmistakable roughness of gurn hide when she runs her thumbs over it, with small, intricate halla painted on the front in remarkable detail.

She glances back up at him; his hands held firmly behind his back in a rigid posture. His eyes however, are soft and warm as they regard her.

The gift is unexpected, though it is lovely, and practical. And one that carries a lot of connotations, were he Dalish.

Did he know?

“The gift is inside, actually,” Solas says with a small quirk of his lips, his hands held firmly behind him. “The bag was merely the product of some extra time and paint while awaiting your recent return from Orlais.”

She opens the bag and has to stifle a cough from as she is hit full force with a strong, earthy scent wafting from within. The earthiness is unmistakably that of elfroot, of which she finds finely ground inside. But it smells different from regular elfroot, or even the expensive royal kind that she has brought back from Orlais.

“I’ve never seen this kind before,” she sifts through it with her fingers, leaning down to sniff it. She draws back, her eyes nearly watering from the intensity.

Solas rocks slightly on his heels before responding.

“It was more commonly smoked in ages past, perhaps even dating to the time of Elvhenan. I came across a dream of its construction and had a wonder as to your opinion on this particular strain.”

“You actually grew this, after seeing it in the Fade?”

 _For me?_ The words went unsaid, but hung between them all the same.

His cheeks color slightly.

“I _did_ have assistance in this matter. Dagna was instrumental in assisting with its creation, as she is far more adept at growing such substances than I.”

“And you managed to keep Sera from discovering this little project, especially once you got Dagna involved. I always see them giggling down in the Undercroft.”

He lets out a small chuckle at that comment.

“A concern I held as well. Dagna has proven to be quite discrete, much to my appreciation, and allowed this to be the surprise that I had hoped for.”

“Yes it certainly…is that.”

She does not bring up the Dalish connotations of gift giving, though she burns to ask. Instead she stands up from her desk, clutching the satchel tightly under her arm. Her pipe is resting on the shelf next to her desk, which she takes with her as she beckons for Solas to follow her to the balconies.

He obliges, falling in step behind her as she unlatches the doors. The mountain air is brisk, but not too terribly cold as the season is swiftly approaching their first summer while holding Skyhold.

She pulls out the soft rug she has rolled up in the corner for this very purpose, smoothing it out. Her hand seeks out Solas’ own, and she raises herself onto her tip toes to plant a small, chaste kiss on his lips. His hand tightens around hers.

“Care to try some?” she asks against his mouth. She feels him smile ever so slightly.

“I had a suspicion you would ask that of me. I do generally prefer my mind to be clear of mind altering substances, but I will make an exception tonight to experience the fruits of my labor.”

“Then I will try my best to keep my hands to myself while you experience away.”

“I did not say _that_ was necessary,” Solas corrects, looking affronted enough that it brings forth a burst of genuine laughter from that shakes her body with mirth.

Once she recovers enough, she sits and flips open the satchel, trying not to spill any of the elfroot in her haste to pack the pipe while Solas sits down next to her, legs crossed and back straight.

“I am quite curious to see if the effects are as…potent as I witnessed in the fade,” Solas comments as she works on her task. “Dagna spent a great deal of time cross-breeding the elfroot with felandaris, no easy task.”

“Felandaris? I didn’t even know that was possible. Or that it was…smokable? It doesn’t even grow any leaves.“

"Hence the need to cross-breed it with another species. Though I am not surprised that this particular variety of elfroot is not produced anymore; Felandaris is rare and only grows in places where the veil is thin. It appears to have been more plentiful, in past times, and did not have such superstitions around the plant preventing its alchemical uses.”

He pauses, glancing away towards the mountains in the distance. “If it was as commonly used by ancient elves as I suspect, it may have been quite a beautiful plant, in fact.”

“Hmmm,” Ashanna mused, rolling the thought around in her head. “What a fascinating idea. “Well, let us enjoy this as the ancient elves did, then.”

Snapping her finger, she brought forth a small lick of flame to light the pipe while she took a deep, long drag of the herb, holding the smoke in her lungs as long as she could. When she exhaled, the smoke drifted away on the breeze, leaving behind a lingering sweet and acrid smell. Far more pleasant of taste than she had thought from such a strong smell.

And it was _potent_. She could feel the effects almost immediately as Solas took the pipe from her to take his turn. Her head grew heavy, her body practically vibrating from a sudden surge of electric energy that courses through her veins. It is not unlike the feeling she got right before releasing a spell that took every bit of mana from her; a euphoric rush of power that snapped and coiled inside her like a living thing.

She opens her eyes, not quite sure when she had closed them, finding her breath coming out in pants. She glances over at Solas, who held out the pipe for her to take, but she was distracted by the sight of his lips pursing to let out several puffs of smoke. They form into rings, disappearing into the darkening skies above them.

After a moment she remembers the pipe that is still being offered to her, and that she was staring, and took another deep drag. She coughs up some of the smoke, along with a few sparks of fire that bounce against the stone balcony.

“That’s new,” she remarks casually.

“Ah,” Solas sounds very far away to her ears as he plucked the pipe from her hands. “I did not anticipate this side effect. Interesting, I shall have to inform Dagna.”

“It’s like…a current of magic rushing through me right now. I’ve never felt anything like this after smoking”

"Your mana is reacting to the altered felandaris, I suspect. It should be harmless, though perhaps a bit unnerving at first.”

She lets out a breathy chuckle.

“I like it. Do you feel it as well, Solas?” Her mouth curls around his name as she says it.

“Yes, though likely not to the extent that you do, _vhenan,_ ” he says with a small, indulgent smile in her direction.

“ _Fenehedis_ , your tolerance levels are maddening. I feel like if I had any more, i wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the physical world and the fade.“

"Have you had enough, already?”

“I’m…” she trails off, the sound of her own voice making her feel exhausted and heavy. She tips herself forward instead to wind her arms around the waist of her apostate lover, pressing her forehead into his sternum.

“….really high,” she finishes, her voice muffled into his collar.

“I believe I am as well,” Solas chuckles, his voice thick and heavy. She feels his intake of air as it brings their bodies closer together and her lips brush the smooth column of his neck.

After a few moments, Solas reaches for the pipe again, taking another hit that creates a giant cloud of smoke to hover above them. He waves his hand and the smoke reforms into the shape of wolf, howling towards the moon hanging overhead.

Ashanna’s eyes are wide as saucers; her hand snaps to his arm.

“Show me how to do that.” It comes out more demanding than she intends, but he does not seem to mind as he hands her the pipe once more.

“It is a simple spell, though it does take time to learn properly, as is the case with any art form.”

It takes more than a few tries, and Ashanna feels her magic buzzing pleasantly through her body from each failed attempt. Finally, she manages to create a small, crude animal that vague resembles a dragon that flies directly through the smoke wolf that lingers in the air, scattering both shapes back into a swirling, formless cloud.

“Sorry,” Ashanna chortles, then coughs out a bit more smoke between more broken laughter. “It got eaten.”

Solas chuckles; then joins in with a deep, rich laughter of his own. The sound slides down her spine and she stares, transfixed at the tears of mirth gathering at the corners of his eyes.

Her eyes fall to his parted lips, and when they dart back up again she seems him watching her, eyes lidded and soft with that _look_. The one that makes her insides flutter, when for just a few minutes her hedge mage would look at her without the pain and loneliness that always seemed to hide in the shadows of his eyes.

She leans against him and they stay that way for several minutes, not talking but just allowing the effects of the herb to trickle through their system while the bustle of Skyhold carried on far below them. She burrows closer to him, pressing her face into the wool of his tunic. It feels nice against her hyper sensitive skin, which is making her body far more twitchy than normal. When Solas lightly strokes the bare skin of her forearms, she lets out a pleased sound that is very close to a moan.

“Solas,” she breathes against his pulse, feeling him shudder underneath her.

“Hmm?”

“Are you aware of Dalish gift giving customs?”

There is a long pause as he stills beneath her, filling her with an unwanted anxiety. Why did she even bring it up in the first place? She hastens to amend her statement.

“You aren’t Dalish. I know that. Things work differently outside the clan, and gifts mean different things. I read about them, in those shem books, where lovers give each other extravagant gifts to show their affection. But for us, a gift like this means a great deal and is not done lightly. It means….ah…”

A commitment. A future. Her chest clenches at the thought; of a small possibility of making it through this ordeal alive, and able to make a new life with just her and Solas, if he would have her, wandering old ruins across Thedas to explore old memories together. Something in her future to look forward to for once, rather than dread.

He opens his mouth to say something, then looks away, shadows darkening his eyes. Shit; she’s ruined this perfect moment.

 _“Ir abelas.”_ He starts, his voice strained. “I was unaware of this custom. I did not mean to-”

She shrugs, hoping the gesture comes across as nonchalant. “Dalish courtship rituals are hardly common knowledge. I can enjoy the gift for what it is, and I’m sorry if I-”

Solas catches her hand mid sentence, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the back of her knuckles.

“You need not apologize. The fault is mine, for my ignorance on the subject.” He sighs, running the back of his thumb along the back of her hand. “You are Dalish, even though you are not with your clan anymore. It will always be a part of you, and I…”

He turns his head, and she cannot decipher the thoughts that are racing through his head right now. Perhaps a distraction is in order.

She leans back to take the pipe, inhaling deeply and holding it in her mouth as she presses forward to kiss him again.  

It earns her a small chuckle as she passes the smoke into his mouth, smoke escaping from the both of them while she joins him in with a girlish giggle of her own. He swallows her giggle with a kiss that makes her head swim as his hands come up to hold her tightly against him.

She feels bubbly and weightless, and it prompts her into action. Her arms wind around his neck as she presses against him and kisses the corner of his mouth with more purpose.

The enthusiasm in his response surprises her as she finds herself pressed back against the furs on the balcony floor, being kissed senseless in return. Though each kiss is hungry between his ragged breathes, they are still gentle and soft on the sensitive skin of her lips before they begin to move down.

She cannot help but whimper when he nudges her head to the side to pull the soft skin of her neck between his teeth.  

“Solas…” her voice is rough and hoarse and almost gets stuck in the back of her throat.

He snaps back almost immediately, pulling back to look at her directly. Noticing the flush on her face, he merely raises an eyebrow.

“Shall we move to the bedroom? Unless you want all of Skyhold to bear witness to the sounds you draw out of me.” She whispers, as if they could hear their conversation from up here.

He lets out a deep peal of laughter at her comment. “Indeed. We should avoid scandalizing your faithful. Allow me, _vhenan_.”

Solas scoops her into her arms with little effort, earning a small yelp of surprise as the world tilts around her. The elfrooot makes her limbs soft and languid and it takes little effort on his part to help her to her feet and steady her.

They stumble through the doors, though Solas has enough frame of mind to ensure the balcony doors are securely locked. She feels a small pull of mana as a ward is set at the entrance.

They land in a heap of limbs and giggles onto her large, soft bed covered in furs gifted by the Avvar. His kisses are everywhere; on her lips, her neck, the points of her ears, the hollow of her throat before they move down to plant kisses along her bare legs as he tugs her foot wrappings from her ankles.

He struggles with the wraps for a few moments, his nose crinkling in frustration before they finally come free with a muttered Elvish curse. Hooking her legs around his waist she tugs him back down to her inelegantly so she can slide her tongue into his mouth in a deep, lingering kiss.

They pull the rest of their clothing off then; discarding it where it falls in their eagerness to feel bare skin against each other. Her hard nipples brush his warm chest and his hand slips between her legs. She lets her head fall back to the bed with a gasp, but he only lingers there a moment before sliding down the bed to replace his hand with tongue.

Her brain is foggy from elfroot and lust, and she can only lie back, digging her heels into the bedding while his tongue works her methodically, dipping inside periodically to taste her but focusing his attention primarily on long, slow licks that leave her shaking.

His tongue finally moves to her clit directly, applying a light, insistent pressure that has her coming with a choked gasp and heat blossoming between her legs.

It takes her a while to come down; and she’s not sure if it’s the orgasm or the high or a combination of both that’s causing the rushing in her ears.

“We can stop there, if you like,” Solas murmurs into her thigh as she brushes a few strands of dark hair from her face; plastered by her sweat. She lifts herself onto her elbows to look at Solas directly.

He is flushed all the way down to the tops of his shoulders, her slick still shining on his chin. Her eyes trail appreciatively down his atypically broad elven body, finding his own arousal to be quite evident as it jutted out from between his legs. She stares, perhaps a bit longer than necessary because when she looks back up he is shaking his head at her.

 _“Ma'lath_ , what I’d like is to ride you like a feisty war halla.” she curves her lips as he lets out a snort of laughter at her comment.

“I find that suggestion agreeable.” he chuckles, grasping her by the waist and twisting, so their positions were reversed and he now lay underneath her.

It takes a bit of effort to position themselves due to their state, and she gets slightly distracted when he’s palming her breasts, but when she finally manages to sink onto him in one smooth motion they both let out a small, content sigh at the delicious stretch of him filling her that always came at this moment.

She pitches forward because her head is far too heavy to allow her to stay upright at the moment and because it allows him to hold her as she presses her forehead to his, rolls her hips and finds a comfortable rhythm for the both of them.

He very much approves, if the sounds he is making and hands digging into her ass are anything to go by.

Their lovemaking is slow and unhurried; he has already taken the edge off of her hunger and both of them are deep into their elfroot fog and everything just feels _so good_ right now. Time passes in a slow haze while she rocks against him. Solas begins to murmur bits of elvish that she cannot parse at the moment, though the words stir something primal in her that sends her heartbeat thrumming against his chest.

He comes with a rush of hot air against her neck, hot and ragged when he spills inside her with a muffled grunt. She holds him, kissing across the freckles on his face as her hips drag out the remainder of his climax.

 _“Ma'vhenan,”_ he breathes when she collapses bonelessly in his arms. His lips press to her sweaty temple and his hand is back at the juncture of her thighs, pressing against their combined fluids that are escaping her. She squirms, then moans when slick fingers brush her clit again.

He is careful with her current level of sensitivity, working his hand in slow, steady motions around her clit until she is brought over the edge once more and is shaking in his arms.

“Creators,” she says eloquently, when she climbs back down into coherent thought.

“I assure you the Creators had nothing to do with this,” Solas sighed as they both lay back, spent.

“Fair enough,” Ashanna responds, her heart still hammering in her chest. She turns onto her side, propping her head with one hand while the other traced over her lover’s bare chest. “I prefer you, in any case.”

He looks at her long and hard after that comment, to the point where the intensity flashing in his eyes is slightly unnerving. But the moment passes and his eyes soften with pure adoration.

“Thank you.”

There is a genuine appreciation in his tone that puzzles her, but she merely smiles and snuggles up to him, her mind whirring even as she feels his breathing begin to even out from sleepiness.  

It is a while before she is able to join him in sleep, but the warmth from her recent release and steady breathing of the man next to her finally lull her into the fade as well.


End file.
